


Red Roses Too, They're Really Saying I Love You Too

by soundslikefire



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: 2010, Gen, Synesthesia, colorful, not really larry, x factor - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-07-29
Updated: 2013-07-29
Packaged: 2017-12-21 18:14:15
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 557
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/903334
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/soundslikefire/pseuds/soundslikefire
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The way Harry sees his world is a bit chaotic: he can't help it.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Red Roses Too, They're Really Saying I Love You Too

Harry is sixteen when he tries out for X-Factor. He's sixteen and everything around him is basically grey. He's got the bakery, buttery warm, brown. And he's got Gemma, his mom. They are maroon, an easy color to go with everything, to go along to.   
He's excited for X-Factor. It sounds sharp, pointy, shiny. He's ready.   
Isn't She Lovely is just a spring green: new buds. He liked it. Harry likes the waves it gives off, big and enveloping. 

"Hi." 

Harry is astounded. After grey for too long, bright red fireworks are over exuberant and bright and loud. Harry just mumbles oops, blending back to the background where he belongs.   
Maybe it wasn't the voice that caused it. Maybe it was just how grueling boot camp had become, stress. Harry tries to forget about it and just focus on the song, but it has just become another patch of darker grey. He doesn't feel it, not really.   
He thinks, maybe hearing the “no” was the worse. It's too heavy, like a hammer dropping on him, dripping with apologies. Lead and a melancholy blue. His steps out match it, fumbled and he's tripping on his own feet.   
And then there's hope, one solitary high note, and light pink, wispy, white. He's got a chance.   
\---  
Life gets a lot more colorful, louder. It more than the sensitive gray. There's Niall: an up and down, waves of bright orange. He's vibrant and laughter all in one. And there's Liam. He's a bass, constant. A navy blue, for which Harry's thankful for. The blue leads to protection. Then Zayn. He's a hum, familiar. To Harry, he's a bit of a purple, more of a murky brown. He feels a little bad about it, but it just adds to Zayn's mystery appeal, breathtaking and cautious.   
And then there's the bursts of dripping, unmissable, unmistakable Red. Burning. Harry loves seeing it, hearing it. Louis is a cheeky funny, best friend. Harry laughs with him, internally cringing when he thinks he sees his bright, newfound teal going to clash with Louis deep scarlet, but it never happens.   
When Louis smiles, the red turns into an umbrella, floating through the sky. He can't explain it. It's just: peaceful. 

Calm. 

Right. Like most nights he snuggled up close it bed with him...the red dimming as he feels Louis breath in deep against him. And when Louis presses his lips up against Harry's skin...the red turns into a reflection in a bubble. Fluttering, and released into the still sky.   
Right up until they pop, and Harry and Louis wake up. Go back to rehearsing. The boys, their own space. The bubble pops their own world and they enter the world of harsh colors that never stop. Too many cymbals, Harry thinks. But it's alright. Lou's there, a strong vine, red, one he can go to, and depend on.   
For now, Harry thinks that’s enough. Something to lean on, with the others holding him up. He likes it up there, on the vine. He can see. Louis and Liam and Zayn and Niall, his mom and Gemma and Britain then all of the world. Louis’s vine keeps him up long enough, just so in case Harry comes down, he can bare the noise and colors that will all bleed together with the fireworks in the back.

**Author's Note:**

> In this, Harry's got a neurological condition called Synesthesia. Basically it means that some people can involuntarily associate colors (or other sensations such as smell or sound) with things around them, letters, numbers, sounds. It is described as a overlapping of the senses.


End file.
